Alright
by the-speed-reader
Summary: She shouldn't be lying there right now, the most innocent of all of them. *Skye/Ward*


_I'm still in shock. Holy crap guys. I was in tears, screaming angrily at my iPad and my mom was slowly backing away from me as if I was a crazy person. My dad, of course didn't help. His exact words were, "You do know its not real, right?"_

_I swear, I nearly broke down right there and then._

_And thus, this little baby was born because I need someway to express my emotions before I crack._

_This one's for you, Lo._

* * *

"_Tears shed for another person are not a sign of weakness. They are a sign of a pure heart._" -Jose N. Harris

* * *

His head was bowed down, forehead pressed against the cool surface, eyes closed with such harshness he could not see any light; his fist, clenched with nails digging patterns into the exposed, rough skin of his palm, was a few inches spread from his head, settled only inches apart, separated only by the pane of thin glass, from where her heart was, nested beneath a deep pool of blood that had stained itself into her thin shirt. He wanted to pound his head against the barrier with every ounce, every moment of his strength, to pull her limp figure into his arms and never let her go. But he couldn't – the same device that separated them, that forced him to grit his teeth and tug a pull at his heart, was the only thing keeping her alive until they could get medical attention.

_She shouldn't have gone in there alone. _Those words, that mantra, had burned itself permanently into his mind, into his flesh, looping over and over again. _Alone. _That was the word that set him off, that forced him to try and control his anger without for the fear he would pound against another black vehicle, even just to feel the cold steel bend to his will. He could control that, even in the slightest way; but her injuries, her frozen eyes, her labored breath – that, he could not.

She shouldn't be lying there right now, the most innocent of all of them; the young girl had never done anything to hurt anyone, at least on purpose. She had never built monsters, never killed or cause pain. The hacker had only done damage with her fingers, and only for the towers of the need for information that had formed in her mind. _Skye. _The words threatened to spill from his lips, needing it as a dying flower needed water – _she _needed water, she needed someone to heal her, to save her. But there was no one; she was alone except for him by her side, comforting her unconscious body, providing a vigil that was not for death. No, she could not die. She just _couldn't_.

He had never believed in God before; the idea that another being, one all powerful, watching over him every minute of every day, honestly scared the crap out of him. But Skye had – he remembered seeing her silent hand motions before every meal she ate, lips moving to unison to every breath she took. She had pray, but he hadn't. Even after all he'd been through, why hadn't he? But now, watching her limp form barely breathing life into her, he swallowed hard. _God, _he spoke in his mind, privy to only his own thoughts. _God, please save her. Please._

The sudden sound of footsteps alerted him, causing his eyes to flash open and his hands to jerk away from her glass container, pushing himself away as if to deny he had been watching out for the young girl, staying at her side, refusing to leave. But, when his face tilted up to meet the stern one of May's, he could see the fear in her eyes – the pain that came with the fear of losing someone. The same fear he felt everyday when he looked in a mirror, one built on the tower of guilt of not saving his little brother from death.

So when he met her eyes, locked in a fierce contest of who would look away before the other, she visibly flinched. It was the first emotion he had ever seen on the older woman since he had joined the team, so he hid his surprise under a cool glare.

"What," he snapped, not feeling any emotion (none at all, oh Skye, what had she done to him?) when the woman just froze. "What do you want?" he demanded again, this time as more of a question than a statement, contradicting the harshness of the first words spoken from his lips in a few hours.

May straightened, her eyes loosing the barely hidden fear and swirling, within a split seconds, into her usually blank look. "We're a few hours out," she spoke quietly, showing no trace of the panicked woman she had been when the hacker had first been found, bleeding to death in a _cellar _of all places (it could have been a poem, one filled with the depths of fear and angst) whispering for help. "Help will come," she murmured. "Help," she repeated one last time, as her voice trailed off.

His head swiveled towards the glass coffin (not a coffin, it _wasn't_ a coffin) taking in the blue colored lips and soft breathing of the brown haired girl. When he looked back, the Asian woman was gone, having left no trace of ever being there.

_It was for the best, _he mused. If no one knew that May was there, she wouldn't have to care; she could blend into the famous Calvary everyone whispered and talked about under the cover of darkness for fear she would hear them. He had seen the Calvary many times in battle, beyond lethal even without a gun; May however, was a persona long gone, meant for another name, one who was innocent.

Then his thoughts carried back to Skye and he turned again, fingers touching the tip of the glass straight above where the gaping wound in her stomach was, tapping it with every beep the container gave off. "Skye," he whispered, his chest feeling like it was being ripped it half. "You'll be alight," he spoke again, tone half-convinced, half-hopeful; but it felt like he was lying straight to his very core.

_She had to be._

* * *

_Hope you guys liked. And if you're feeling the same pain that I am, I wish you luck. Cause I feel like curling up into a ball and crying for hours, especially when I go on Tumblr and see all those pictures and videos and - oh great, now I'm crying again._


End file.
